Tuscan Cypress
O ships that sail, O masts against the sky,
Will you not stop awhile in passing by?
O prayers that hope, O faith that never knew.
Will you not take me on to heaven with you?
xiv.
Flower of the Cypress, little bitter bloom.
You are the only blossom left to gather;
I never prized you, grown amid the gloom.
But well you last, though all the others wither.
Flower of the Cypress, I will bind a crown
Tight round my brows to still these fancies down.
Flower of the Cypress, I will tie a wreath
Tight round my breast to kill the heart beneath.
xv.
Ah, Love, I cannot die, I cannot go
Down in the dark and leave you all alone!
Ah, hold me fast, safe in the warmth I know.
And never shut me underneath a stone.
Dead in the grave! And I can never hear
If you are ill or it you miss me, Dear.
Dead, oh my God! and you may need me yet,
While I shall sleep; while I—while I—forget!
xvi.
Come away Sorrow, Sorrow come away—
Let us go sit in some cool, shadowy place;
There shall you sing and hush rae all the day.
While I will dream about my lover's face.
Hush me, O Sorrow, like a babe to sleep,
Then close the lids above mine eyes that weep;
Rock me, O Sorrow, like a babe in pain.
Nor, when I slumber, wake me up again.
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